First Impressions
by jremme
Summary: Sweets POV. A one-shot about his first meeting with B&B. A little twist at the end.


**A/N: You're actually going to do a one-shot that stays a one-shot?! The answer is yes; yes I am. In the tradition of my first Bones fic, Friday Night Fun, I am writing a one-shot that will remain a one-shot. Just a note about it though. I do not necessarily agree with what I've written here (you'll see) but the idea came into my head, and my imagination took it from there. I really need to work on my stupid speech, but if you've read me before, you know how I get about ideas! Enjoy!!**

**First Impressions**

I'm sitting in my office, waiting. I check the clock at intervals, then look at my watch. The times are not in sync. I'll have to fix that. But, no matter what chronological device I look at; the truth remains. They're late. Not really late, like some of my other appointments; but what they refer to as fashionably late.

I tap my foot in time with the ticking of the clock. Let's get this show on the road.

Then, finally, I hear the door knob turn. They're here.

She comes in first; the famous forensic anthropologist, Dr. Temperance Brennan. She stands in the doorway confidently, immediately locking eyes with me. I recognize the type right away. Married to her work, and not a fan of psychology. It's all there for me to see in her blue eyes.

I've dealt with skeptics before, and they've all come away believers in my craft. I have no doubt that Dr. Brennan will be the same way. I wonder briefly what she sees there in my eyes. Hopefully, nothing I don't want her to see. I've been told before that my eyes are very expressive.

She's rather good looking, and if I didn't have a girlfriend already, my thoughts would be spinning wildly out of control right now. But I'm a good man deep down, for all my faults. I am very loyal to those I have connections with.

She breaks eye contact at that moment, and leans out into the hallway.

"Come on Booth!" She sounds impatient.

"Yea, yea, yea; I'm coming Bones."

A second person joins her in the doorway, and I invite them to come in and have a seat. I size up Special Agent Seeley Booth immediately, and know he's doing the same thing with me. Again, I recognize the type.

He's clearly full of himself, going a little ways beyond normal confidence. He doesn't want to be here. He probably thinks that there's nothing I can tell him that he doesn't already know; or perhaps, that I'll tell him something he doesn't want to hear.

I can also see that he's going to make at least one crack about my age. Most do, if they're the same type as Agent Booth. As though being younger makes you incompetent in your field. I'll have to teach him that that belief is ridiculous. I'm better at my job than most people twice my age. As a matter of fact, I'm good at a lot of things.

For example, I'm quite adept at the art of deception. And, as is evident by my position, I'm also good at making fake documents. My employers took one look at my fabricated credentials and were blown away. And I did my homework. Going through all those stupid psych books was a pain, but it paid off. No one doubted my validity for a second. Federal Bureau of Investigation indeed. More like Federal Bureau of Idiots.

I'm also good at making things. I have a little project going on right now. It's hidden away in a secret place that only a select handful of people know about. And it will remain that way. It features a skeleton, some parts actual bone, other parts still pure silver; a fact that I'm working to remedy. And it's something that these two in front of me, or anyone else for that matter, will never figure out. I've worked hard to build up this façade, and it's the perfect cover.

I look so innocent, and I've been told I look younger than I am. It's all to my advantage.

I smile at the two sitting in front of me.

"Well, Dr. Brennan, Agent Booth. I'm Lance Sweets. Let's get started."

**A/N: So? As always, I am eager for your thoughts. Again, not necessarily representative of my views. Thank you!!**


End file.
